


Fore!!!

by attackonicex



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Golf, But of course Victor doesn't have any injuries or cheating scandals, Imagine Victor as the Tiger Woods of this universe, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Pressure, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attackonicex/pseuds/attackonicex
Summary: In which a four foot birdie putt, on the 18th hole of the final round of the U.S. Open, changes Yuuri Katsuki's life in more ways than one.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave feedback! This is my very first fic ever and I don't want to write a huge slow burn with tons of errors. I want to become better :) All feedback is good feedback so don't be afraid to bring it! :) Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> Tumblr: attackonicex

_2016 U.S. Open Championship, 18th hole ___

__“Katsuki Yuuri of Japan is lining up his four foot putt,” Nick Faldo says lightly into the microphone. “If this goes in we will be seeing Mr. Katsuki in a playoff against the defending champion, Victor Nikiforov.”_ _

__Jack Nicklaus nods his head. “Yes, yes, you’re right. This is a pretty routine putt and should be a very easy one for Japan’s ace. Perhaps a little left to right but I wouldn’t play it more than a ball outside left. A firm putt should seal the deal.”_ _

__“Katsuki has always been one of the tours best putters. PGA statistics says he’s ranked second in one putts and putts made by distance, only trailing respectively behind Victor Nikiforov in both categories,” Faldo remarked. “Quite a feat for someone who made his rookie start just a year ago.”_ _

__“Ah, yes. But we’ve never seen him with so much pressure on him. The chance to be in a playoff with the legendary Victor Nikiforov for one of the nation’s more prestigious major championships? That’s a lot of weight on his shoulders. It’ll be interesting to see how this turns out.”_ _

__

__Four foot putts were very routine for Yuuri. When Celestino would work on putting drills with him he would have to stay out well past dark riffling off hundreds of them._ _

__“No dinner until you can make one hundred putts outside three feet in a row,” Yuuri remembers him saying one evening. “These are the important ones! If you can make these under pressure nothing is stopping you from winning,” he declared._ _

__People always assumed that Yuuri wasn’t familiar to pressure because of his lack of professional wins, but it’s actually quite the opposite. Moving from Japan to the United States at only thirteen years old to pursue golf brought its own pressure and challenges; those challenges emphasized by the fact that Yuuri could barely speak a word of English when he began schooling in Detroit._ _

__Yuuri also faced pressure all throughout his junior career. He was the 2013 U.S. Junior champion, the most prestigious junior event in the world, as well as the 2013 AJGA Rolex Player of the year. His trophy case was littered with dozens of medals and trophies from various worldwide events, and he was Japan’s star golfer. He was recruited to play golf at the University of Michigan on a full scholarship and won various individual titles for the team before deciding to turn professional just three years into college._ _

__Was it a gamble? Yes, and Yuuri could admit that to himself. Turning professional without a college degree was not something he ever saw himself doing, but he couldn’t wait to get on the tour and begin competing with Victor Nikiforov. The world was against him though. Celestino begged him to wait until after his senior year, his family attempted to convince him to go back to college. Even Phichit, Yuuri’s best friend, pulled him to the side after practice to talk to him about it._ _

__“Are you sure about this, Yuuri?” Phichit asked quietly, his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder._ _

__“More sure than I’ve been about anything before,” he replied._ _

__All of this was for him—Victor Nikiforov. The number one ranked golfer in the world. The man with the most PGA TOUR wins in history. The guy Yuuri has looked up to ever since he first began golfing at the little public course his dad occasionally went to. Ever since Yuuri could talk he would tell you he was going to compete against Victor one day; he was going to play on the same course as him and see his name on the leaderboard right next to Victor’s._ _

__Today was the day he’s been waiting his whole life for._ _

__Yuuri opened the tournament with a disappointing three over par 75, but matching rounds of 64, 64 brought him within the top 5 easily. Those rounds were different though. Yuuri had already assumed he was out of the running for the championship after his terrible start. However, when rough winds combined with under forgiving greens hit the afternoon group on Saturday, Yuuri suddenly shot up the scoreboard, tallying the low rounds on both Friday and Saturday. He found himself in the final group on Sunday, just a group away from his idol._ _

__Victor rarely took the lead going into the final day. He preferred to stay a few groups back and then gave no mercy. He always shot a low score on Sunday to take the clubhouse lead—all he had to do was wait for the other players to fall apart on the final stretch before taking his trophy. Today was no different. Victor birdied his last four holes to shoot a spectacular 65 and once again took the clubhouse lead at seventeen under._ _

__Yuuri found himself one back of that very same lead after seventeen holes._ _

__The eighteenth hole at Oakmont Country Club is a nearly 500 yard, par four with a narrow fairway and unforgivably thick rough. Bunkers litter not only the fairway but green side as well. Every year the course has hosted a U.S. Open the hole has played well over par on average, and this year was once again no different._ _

__Yuuri hits a fantastic drive right down the middle and narrowly escapes trouble in the bunkers. The uphill green requires careful club choice—missing this green was not a risk he could take while so close to the lead._ _

__“200, uphill, into the wind,” Phichit, Yuuri’s caddie, noted, his hands flipping through his yardage book. “I think you should go with the four iron. No reason to risk being short—it’ll roll right off that false front.”_ _

__“No, we have to get it close if we want any shot of making it into that playoff.” Yuuri stated. “I’m going to take the five iron. I have to make birdie.” He grabbed his five iron from his bag, a shocked Phichit staring at him with his mouth wide open. Yuuri ignored him—this was his shot, his tournament to win. He was going to hit the club he wanted to hit._ _

__Yuuri began his pre-shot routine. One practice swing, walk behind the ball, visualize the line. He was going to play a draw into this front, right pin. Land it just short with a little spin and try to get it within ten feet. He lined his club up to his target, set his feet, straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath._ _

__This was the most important shot of Yuuri’s professional career._ _

__Yuuri takes the club back and hits the ball._ _

__Cheering is all he can hear. Without his glasses he can’t see the green, or the ball that is hopefully on the green. Phichit drops his golf bag and runs over to him, taking him into a hug.  
“Yuuri!” He exclaims, his face broken out into an ear to ear grin. _ _

__“Where is it? How close am I?” Yuuri states, shaking out of Phichit’s grasp. The cheers from the gallery almost completely cover his voice._ _

__“Oh, I don’t know. Only inside five feet!”_ _

__

__And that’s how Yuuri got in this position. One four foot birdie putt for the chance in a playoff to win a major championship against the man he has looked up to for around two decades. Sounds easy, right? A nation to impress, a putt to make, thousands of people watching and waiting. A mistake would cost him a championship and a check for almost 1.5 million dollars._ _

__“Yuuri,” Phichit said, bringing Yuuri back into focus. “It’s just like any other putt you’ve had. If you make it we move on and if you miss it we move on. Don’t stress.”_ _

__Easier said that done, right? Yuuri backs off from his putt once more, hoping to see some break that he may have missed. Uphill. Left edge of the cup. Hit it firm and watch it drop into the hole._ _

__He lines back up to the ball, aiming the line on his putter to the left side of the hole. Yuuri sets his feet, cocks his wrist a little to the left, and takes one final look at the cup before bringing his gaze back to the logo on his Srixon golf ball. The crowd falls silent._ _

__Yuuri strikes his putt after a long, deep breath._ _

__The crowd roars._ _


	2. Playoff! Victor vs Yuuri!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gallery: the spectators of a golf tournament  
> Slice: A shot that curves dramatically from left to right  
> Hook: A shot that curves dramatically from right to left  
> Draw: A shot that curves a little from right to left  
> Fade: A shot that curves a little from left to right  
> Spin: This is what causes the ball to hit and stop on the green (it is the way the ball is rotating in the air)  
> Skull: A shot that is hit way lower than expected with little spin  
> Birdie: One under par (this is good)  
> Par: Pre-determined number of strokes on a hole (think of this as the average, or expected number on a hole)  
> Bogey: One over par (not so good)

“Mr. Katsuki, can you explain how you’re feeling going into the playoff?” The interviewer asked Yuuri, the microphone only inches from his face. It had been only minutes since Yuuri made the putt that would guarantee himself a spot in the playoffs. Yuuri, and the reporter interviewing him, were just to the left of the green.

How was he feeling? Could he reply with everything? Fear was most prevalent; the shake in his hands confirmed that. The fear of losing, the fear of winning. The fear of going head to head against Victor. As far as Yuuri was aware, Victor had nothing to lose if he didn’t win. But Yuuri? As far as he cared he had everything to lose if he walked away without a victory.

But Yuuri could also feel excitement running through his veins. He wanted his name to be engraved on that trophy forever. He wanted the next generation of junior golfers to look at him as their role model. He wanted to forever change how golf in Japan was going to be perceived. Maybe it was just a selfish fantasy, but he wanted it more than he’s ever wanted anything before.

“I’m excited for this opportunity. I’m going to do whatever I can to bring that trophy home to Japan. I’d also like to thank Srixon and Mizuno, my sponsors, for helping me get this far.” Yuuri replied. It was a very forced and rehearsed response, but revealing too much could start drama he wasn’t ready for. The golf world was much larger than most people realized.

The interview was cut short by a four seat golf cart pulling up beside Yuuri; Phichit was already sitting on one of the back seats. Yuuri’s Srixon tour back was sitting between his legs.

“Playoff starts in 10 minutes! Let’s not be late,” Phichit said, waving his hand towards the empty seat beside him. He had a silly grin plastered on his face. Yuuri could tell he was just as excited to go up against Victor Nikiforov.

Playoffs usually began on the 18th hole so the remaining crowd doesn’t have to move too far. Yuuri can already see the thousands of people lining the fairway and green. The order is decided on the teebox by a draw from a hat. Yuuri hated having to go first, especially with so much pressure being put on him.

As the golf cart rode up the fairway to the teebox Yuuri could see the faint image of Victor and his young caddie, Yuri Plisetsky, already at the teebox. Victor’s platinum hair was covered with a black, Nike hat. He was wearing a red Nike shirt, like he does every Sunday, to honor his time spent at Stanford playing golf. He was focused on the yardage book he held in his hand.

“This is amazing,” Phichit whispered in Yuuri’s ear. With Phichit’s ear to ear grin and the way he was looking around like a kid in a candy shop. Yuuri could tell his best friend was trying his best to contain his excitement.

When Yuuri first dropped out of college Phichit chose to also take a break from college in order to be Yuuri’s first caddie as a professional. Phichit’s junior and college golf careers were above average, but he was always ranked behind Yuuri. He decided the best route for him was to caddie for Yuuri instead of pursing his own golf career.

“I know,” Yuuri whispered back. “But I wish it was any other golfer in the world I was going up against.”

“Oh, shush. I would say this is the greatest moment of my life, but the look on Victor’s face when you beat him will be even better,” Phichit says, covering his laugh with his hand as they steadily approached the tee box.

Alongside Victor and Yuri were two rules officials and the tournament director. One of the rules officials, an older man in his 50’s, was holding a baseball cap in one hand. Victor finally tore his gaze away from the yardage book in his hand and looked up at Yuuri, making direct eye contact with him. Yuuri immediately blushed and looked away.

“Hello,” Victor spoke as Yuuri and Phichit climbed out of the golf cart. “I’m Victor and this is Yuri. Good luck today.” He held out his hand and Yuuri shook it.

“Hi. This is Phichit and I’m also named Yuuri,” he said shyly, not making eye contact with Victor. Yuri made a disgusted noise from behind Victor.

“Well, that could get confusing. I guess we’ll just have to start calling you Yurio then,” Victor said, placing his hand on Yuri’s back. Victor seemed to find it much funnier than Yuri did.

“What? NO! I will not let you—” Yurio started saying, anger beginning to show on his young face, but he was interrupted by the rules official walking in between Yuuri and Victor.

The rules official cleared his voice and turned towards the crowd. He still held his baseball cap in one hand, but in the other was a loudspeaker. “Hello everyone and welcome to the playoff at the 116th U.S. Open, hosted by the prestigious Oakmont Country Club. Russia’s Victor Nikiforov, current defending champ, will face off against Japan’s Katsuki Yuuri. The order of play will be determined by a draw from the hat. Yuuri will draw first.” He stretched his hand so the baseball cap was right in front of Yuuri. Yuuri took a deep breath before placing his hand in the bag. _Please don’t be first, _he told himself. _Please, please, please don’t be first.___

_____ _

_____ _

He grabs the paper and unfolds it, showing it to the rules official.

“Katsuki Yuuri will be going first!” The official spoke into the loudspeaker, holding the ball cap high in the air. All Yuuri could do was look over to Phichit, who was giving him a sympathetic smile. The rules official continued, “Good luck boys. Play fair, and may the best golfer win!”

Phichit handed Yuuri his driver. The tee shot on 18 was one of the narrowest tee shots on the entire golf course. Even though the fairway appears wide, there are multiple bunkers that make hitting the green quite difficult. The left side of the hole, which is covered in unforgivably tough rough, is much better than the right side. Tall, dense rows of cedar trees line the entire right side. Though Yuuri has never hit the ball far off the tee, everyone knew that he was one of the most accurate ball strikers on tour. 

Yuuri begins his pre-shot routine. One practice swing, then step behind the ball and visualize the line. _Play a draw, _he tells himself. _Land this in the fairway. _He walks up to the ball, and puts his driver right up to it.____

_____ _

_____ _

He takes a deep breath, and hits the ball.

“Fore right!” The other official yells, pointing his ‘silence’ paddle to the right. Yuuri sliced his drive, right towards the woods, and towards the thousands of patrons standing in the rough. His ball comes to a thud in the deep grass, before taking a sharp bounce into the woods. The announcers radio rings a moment later, stating the ball is in bounds and safe.

“Great,” Yuuri mumbles to himself while picking his tee up from the ground. He sticks it behind his ear and hands Phichit his driver. 

“You’ll be alright,” Phichit says, but in reality Phichit has no idea where his ball has ended up or even if it’s possible to hit.

Victor walks up and begins his pre-shot routine immediately. In person Victor is truly a sight. Even though he has already played a grueling 18 holes, you wouldn’t be able to tell it by looking at him. His shirt is still neatly tucked into his pants. His shoes are just as clean and bright as they were when they came out of the box. Even his hair, though covered by his hat, is still straight and not glistening with sweat. Yuuri feels intimidated just by his presence. He composes himself like he’s out here just to have fun. His nonchalant attitude and the way he drips confidence from every orifice is intoxicating. _And incredibly attractive, _Yuuri finds himself thinking.__

____

____

Before Yuuri knows it Victor is hitting the ball. Easily a 300 yard drive, and to Yuuri’s dismay, directly in the middle of the fairway. Victor doesn’t even watch the ball fall to the ground before picking up his tee and handing his own driver to Yurio.

The walk of shame is the only way to describe the way walking to a ball that’s who-knows-how far in the woods. Tens of thousands of people in the gallery, as well as hundreds of thousands watching on television are all probably laughing at him. _Wow, that Yuuri guy can’t even hit a fairway when under pressure, _they probably say. _Victor will win for su— _____

_____ _

_____ _

“Yuuri,” Victor’s voice calls from behind him. “Is this the first major you’ve ever played in?” His tone isn’t mocking, it’s something else. Perhaps curiosity?

“Ah…yes,” He says, suddenly at a loss for words. “Last year I didn’t qualify for any.”

“Wow! Very impressive! How did you qualify for this one then?” Victor replied, smiling wide and walking closer to Yuuri.

“Oh. I went through the qualifying process. I started with the local qualifying in Detroit, then sectional qualifying in Miami. And now I’m here…” His voice trails off. He can feel the familiar feeling of a blush rising to his cheeks.

Victor moved to be even closer to Yuuri. Their shoulders were practically rubbing against one another as they walked. “That’s quite a lot of work. You must be really good then,” he replied.

“Not as good as you,” Yuuri said quietly, suddenly becoming very uncomfortable with the conversation. Why was Victor even talking to him in a moment like this? Shouldn’t they be competitors looking for no mercy against each other? This wasn’t mini golf while on a family vacation. There were careers and millions of dollars on the line. 

Victor seemed to not know what to say to that. He broke away from his spot beside Yuuri with a small frown on his face and began to walk down the fairway to his own golf ball where Yurio was already waiting. Yuuri continued to follow Phichit to the woods, more confused than ever about the conversation he just had. A rules official stood on the tree line and pointed straight into the woods where Yuuri’s Srixon golf ball lay. 

“It could be worse,” Phichit added, looking down at the terrible lie. Yuuri wasn’t so sure it could be much worse. A cedar tree was directly behind the golf ball, preventing Yuuri from any possible backswing. The limbs on the cedar tree came so low they would also prevent him from being able to stand all the way up during his golf shot. “At least it’s not out of bounds.”

“God, Phichit. What am I going to do?” Yuuri has no possibility of hitting this shot like normal, and because Victor hit his ball farther, Yuuri was first to play.

“I say you take your 7 iron and hit it lefty. Just punch it out as far as you can and try to save par. Try to force Victor to have to make birdie to win,” Phichit states, grabbing the 7 iron out of Yuuri’s bag and handing it to him.

“Hit it lefty? Phichit, that’s only something we do in practice.”

“What other choice do you have? The tree is blocking any swing you could take hitting it normally and taking an unplayable would leave you trying to make bogey…or worse! What do you have to lose?” 

Phichit was right. Yuuri had no chance unless he hit it lefty. He took the iron from Phichit’s hand and walked up to his ball. The spectators started backing away as Yuuri began taking his practice swing. Their gasps echoed in Yuuri’s ear and he tried to figure out how he was going to hit this.

Hitting a shot lefty is very difficult when you’re right handed. Not only are you standing on the other side of the ball, but you are forced to take a completely different swing than normal with your club turned backwards. The only landing spot on the club is the very toe of it. One wrong move and Yuuri could skull it right into the crowd, or worse, miss the ball completely.

Yuuri chose to cut his pre-shot routine down for this shot. The less he thought about it, the less he would have to worry about it. One deep breath later and he hit the ball.

Though it wasn’t the best shot he’s ever hit, it was enough to get out of the woods. The ball came out much lower than expected and rolled nicely to the right side of the fairway. 

“Nice shot!” Phichit said as he grabbed the club out of his hand, but Yuuri wasn’t paying attention. His gaze was focused solely on Victor preparing for his next shot. Yuuri speculated he couldn’t have anything more than about a 7 iron into the green. The wind was blowing from behind him, and even if the shot was a little downhill, he would probably take less club than he would usually hit from this yardage.

When Victor hit his shot the gallery roared. It landed short, but because it came in low and with a draw, it took one large bounce before settling just ten feet right of the hole. It was the same putt Victor had for birdie earlier in the day while finishing up his final round. 

It was the same putt he drained for birdie to take the lead.

Yuuri tried not to think about how Victor would already know the speed and line for the putt. All he wanted to think about was the shot he had to get close. He was 170 yards from the green. Typically, he would pull a 7 iron and play for the middle of the green, but he knew he had to get this close and force Victor to make his putt in order to win.

“Give me the 7 iron,” he told Phichit. 

Phichit looked up from the yardage book in his hand and smiled. “Of course,” he said as he grabbed the club. “Be confident and hit the shot you need to win.”

That’s exactly what Yuuri planned to do. He was going to get this as close as he could. Every doubt from his mind was soon forgotten once he began his routine. Victor was going to have to make his putt if he wanted to beat him. Yuuri wasn’t going to give away this victory easily. He was going to give it every ounce of fight he had so he can bring this trophy home to his family. This was going to be his proof that dropping out of college, and moving to the United States to pursue golf, was worth it.

Yuuri strikes the ball and holds his finish. The ball struck right in the center of the club face and began drawing towards the hole. It landed short, and took a big bounce onto the green, just like Victor's. But unlike Victor's, his was right on line with the hole. 

“No way…” Yuuri began saying.

“Oh, my god,” Phichit shouted. 

As the ball trailed towards the hole, it appeared at first it was going to just miss. But if by pure chance, or as Celestino would have said, ‘pure skill,’ the ball caught the right side of the hole and fell into the cup.

Yuuri was too blinded by emotion to hear the screams of the crowd or the look on Victor face. All he could see was the face of Phichit as he captured him in a hug. 

“Yuuri! That was the shot of the championship!” He shouted in his ear.

“Do you think it will be enough?” He whispered into Phichit's ear.

Phichit didn’t answer, but instead grabbed the golf bag laying on the ground and began walking to the green.


	3. Victory at Oakmont

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Break: the way a putt moves on the green. This is impacted by the hills on the green. Examples: left to right break (the putt is going to move to the right)  
> Fringe: The grass that surrounds the green. It is cut just a little higher than the grass on the green. Very similar to fairway grass.  
> Read: Determining the break of a putt by looking at the slope/hills of the green  
> Grandstands: A large group of bleachers/seats that are set up for golf tournaments so the spectators can view the tournament

“Victor Nikiforov is about to approach his ten foot putt,” Nick speaks into the microphone. “If I’m right he’s already familiar with this putt from earlier this afternoon?”

“Yes. This is the exact same putt he had to take the clubhouse lead. A bit of a slider right to left but uphill all the way,” Jack replies.

“Rumor has it Victor is looking to take the rest of the season off after the championship. This putt most likely has a lot of importance to him. This could be the last time we are seeing Victor Nikiforov on the leaderboard.”

“It would be quite significant if Victor could leave the spotlight with a victory at the last start of his career. But what about Katsuki Yuuri holing his shot from the fairway? Quiet incredible!”

“An amazing shot from the Japanese man! He really put the pressure on the defending champion to have to make his putt to keep the playoff going. It’ll be very interesting to see how this turns out,” Nick replies, his attention now solely focused on the screen in front of him showing Victor lining up his putt.

Yuuri hasn’t felt this nervous in a long time. Phichit and Yuuri stood on the side of the green watching Victor and Yurio read their birdie putt. Even Phichit, who was usually very upbeat and confident in moments like this, was fidgeting nervously from his spot beside Yuuri on the fringe.

Victor and Yurio finally finish analyzing their putt split from one another. Yurio goes to the side of the green with the flagstick in his hand and Victor walks up to his putt to begin his pre-shot routine. Yurio’s face shows no hint of emotions; actually, it almost looks smug. He must be very confident in Victor’s ability to make this.

If you looked at Victor you wouldn’t be able to tell that he had a ten foot putt to win a major championship. He walked around the golf course with more confidence than Yuuri had ever seen. He was almost positive that Victor had never felt nervous or worried on a golf course before. Why would you have anything to be nervous about when you were always guaranteed to win? 

And for as long as Yuuri could remember, Victor was always winning. It started with junior golf tournaments in Russia before he became too good for the little competition over there. At just ten years old, Victor and his coach, Yakov Feltsman, moved to the states in order to pursue a serious golf career. Before long Victor began to dominate the junior golf tournaments in the states, and by the time he was ready to go to college, he was the number one junior golfer in the world.

Victor only lasted two years at Stanford before turning professional. He won the National Championship his freshman and sophomore year and turned professional right after the season ended. Yuuri wasn’t shocked at all, Victor Nikiforov was known for his surprises. Someone as successful and popular as Victor didn’t need a communications degree to get him through life. The second he turned professional he already had a Nike contract and dozens of sponsors lining up. Victor was destined for success and riches from the moment he began playing golf. And as everyone knows, Victor didn’t struggle at all once he reached the professional level. More wins, tour championships, and player of the year’s than anyone else in history. _Amazing,_ Yuuri would say as he watched Victor win another championship. _I can’t wait to play on the same course as him one day._

Victor took one last look at the hole. He brought his eyes back down to his ball and took a deep breath before finally, _finally,_ striking it.

The putt was perfect. Perfect speed, perfect line. Victor began walking to the hole before the putt even reached the cup. The crowd was full of anticipation as the ball kept approaching and approaching. Gasps and sounds of excitement were echoing through the grandstands.

Victor’s Bridgestone ball caught the left side of the hole before spinning all the way around and stopping just on the side of the cup.

It didn’t go in. 

Victor’s putt to tie Yuuri in the sudden death playoff of the 116th U.S. Open lipped around the hole and didn’t go in.

Katsuki Yuuri, Japan’s ace, had beat the defending champion. He had won.

Shock was all Yuuri could feel. Scratch that. Shock and overwhelming happiness. Phichit was the first to congratulate him, then Celestino waiting in the crowds, and then his family sent hundreds of texts and calls saying that Hasetsu was proud. Hundreds of spectators and rules officials eventually came up to him to congratulate him on his victory as well and asked for autographs and photos.

It was very strange being admired and congratulated like this. But it was something Yuuri would be happy getting use to. If things went right then this would be happening much more often.

If Yuuri would have been told a decade ago that he would beat Victor Nikiforov in a sudden death playoff to win he would have laughed in your face. 

After the trophy ceremony and the interviews were over the tournament crew began cleaning up the rest of the golf course to prepare for regular play tomorrow. Phichit decided to ride back to the hotel with Celestino and Yuuri decided to grab a bite at the golf course grill before heading home.

When Yuuri entered the clubhouse he found that the only people left were himself and Victor.

“Congratulations on your victory today, Yuuri,” Victor said with a warm smile on his face as he approached Yuuri. “Well deserved.” He didn’t seem upset or jealous in the slightest. His praise seemed genuine.

“Thank you. For a long time I didn’t think I could do it.” This was very true. Yuuri couldn’t count on both hands how many times he went back to the hotel holding back tears due to missing the cutline or a particularly poor finish that would leave him with barely a check to survive on.

“You seem to doubt yourself a lot,” Victor said, stepping closer to Yuuri. 

“Yeah…I guess. Just a habit, I suppose…” He said, his voice trailing off. Speaking to Victor made him extremely nervous. Imagine how embarrassing it would be to accidentally admit something foolish to the man you’ve been idolizing for years. _Yeah, hey Victor. Thanks for talking to me but did you know I’ve had a poster of you hanging up in my bedroom for the last 15 years?_

“Isn’t your caddie suppose to help quell those doubts?”

“I don’t want to bother him with my worries. Being a caddie is already a tough job,” Yuuri said. Victor took another step forward, a curious look on his face. He seemed to be looking for an answer that Yuuri wasn’t giving.

“Hmm,” was all Victor replied with.

“Hmm?”

“Hmm. How you feel about me caddying for you for the rest of the season? Just while I’m taking a break from the professional circuit. It would give you some good publicity and me some time to think about the next step in my career,” Victor said while grabbing Yuuri’s hand. Even though he phrased his question confidently, there was something that told Yuuri he was almost begging for him to say yes.

“C-caddying for me? No, you can’t do that. You shouldn’t do that! You probably have something much better to do with your time than caddie someone like me.” People like Victor Nikiforov deserved much better. They deserved to live the rest of their retirement touring the world and cameoing in commercials and running golf tournaments. _Not caddying for someone as lame as me,_ he thought. “And what about Phichit?”

“I talked to Phichit after your round when you were signing autographs. He said that as long as I can get him a job caddying for Yuri Plisetsky during his professional debut he would give his blessing,” Victor said, letting go of Yuuri’s right hand. “And for the record, there is nothing I would want more than becoming your caddie. I believe we would make a great team.”

“But we barely know each other! And you’re Victor Nikiforov!”

Victor laughed, “Yes, I am aren’t I? And I suppose we’ll just have to get to know each other better then. What do you say?”

Yuuri knew his true answer from the moment Victor asked. Perhaps it was selfish, taking someone like Victor away from the spotlight to caddie someone like him. But maybe Yuuri was a selfish person who wanted the world’s greatest golfer all to himself. “Okay.”

‘Really?” Victor said, a hopeful look on his face.

“Yes.”


End file.
